You Can't Hide Theresa Sneed (top 10 non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📖

drawn, he worked his way toward the door. He pulled the radio from his belt. “Suspect is hot. I repeat—suspect is hot.” He looked down at Sam Sr. “Is there another way he can get into the house?”

“We have a cellar,” Sam said, pointing to the cellar door. He grabbed a kitchen chair and wedged it under the door knob.

Louise crawled over to Agent Sanderson who had slumped to the floor, holding on to his arm.

Thompson peered out from the side of the window. “Get down and stay down.” After another glance, he opened the front door, and slammed it behind him.

Louise’s voice caught in her throat. “Let me help.” Sanderson peeled the shirt off his shoulder. Louise cut the rest away with the medical scissors.

She peeled the shirt off the wound. “Oh, my,” she whispered. It looked like half of his arm was blown away. “We’ll have to stop the bleeding.” She applied wads of gauze on top of it and wrapped it loosely. “Sam?” She gestured for him to come near. He crawled next to her and held the gauze against Sanderson’s skin. “At least, it’s not—it should be—okay,” Louise blubbered.

Sanderson groaned. “I’m fine, ma’am.”

She hoped he was right, but from the looks of it, she doubted he’d be using that arm for a while. Her thoughts fell to Sally and the rest of her family outside with that maniac, and then her eyes rested on Sam’s rifle hanging over the fireplace mantel. Without thinking, she jumped up.

Sam got up on his knees. “Get down, Louie.”

But she ignored his plea. She wrenched the gun from its perch and then grabbed the box of cartridges by its side. Keeping the muzzle in the air, she opened the bolt, and slid the cartridges into it.

Sanderson sat forward and reached for her. “Ma’am,” he said, wincing from pain. “I don’t think you should do that.”

“Well, I appreciate your concern,” she said, “but no need to worry about me.” She parted the curtains with the muzzle of the gun. “Just got them back, and I’m not about to lose them again.”

“Louie?” Sam said. “What are you doing?’

John whipped around. What was that? Though muffled in the dense woods, it sounded a lot like gunshot. He sped down the path back toward the farm. He hadn’t gotten too far, when another shot sounded. He’s at the house. Panic gripped him, but years of training in the police force took over, keeping him focused on what might lie ahead.

Sally looked back over her shoulder. Those were gunshots, and they were coming from the farm. She hesitated with bolting back, but then common sense took over. She’d not seen her parents yet, so that must mean that they were farther down the path—in the opposite direction of the gunshots. She stumbled out of the woods and raced down the path toward the falls.

Heavy footsteps sounded from behind. “Oh, yay. I thought I’d never find you.” Relieved, she turned.

A horrified shriek left her throat. She stepped backwards and then turned to flee, but Merrick was already upon her.

He grabbed a chunk of her hair, his breath hot against her neck. “Just like flushing out a skittish rabbit.”

“Eech,” she screeched, in a frenzied panic. Falling backwards, she hit the ground hard.

“My, but you’ve grown, since last I saw you—daughter.”

She spit at him. “I’m not your daughter!” She whimpered. Scooting backwards, she dragged the axe beside her quivering body.

“Now, why y’gotta be so mean?” His mocking eyes fell on the axe. He sneered. “And whatcha got that for? Gonna cut down a tree, or maybe, me?”

Her nostrils flared, and her skin flushed. She jumped up and danced around, clumsily waving the axe at him. Her fingers clenched so tight around the axe handle, her knuckles were white. “I will cut you down! I will! I will!” She screamed, breathing heavily.

He made a face. “Really? Do you know how easily I could pluck it away from you, kid?”

She swung it at him and it fell awkwardly through the air. “Just try it!”

“Such defiance from one so young.” He sobered, as if deep in thought. “I was gonna kill ya.” His eyes narrowed, and a wicked grin spread across his face. “But instead, I think I’m gonna keep you.”

Sally swung the axe through the air. It caught him off guard and sliced into his shoulder. She gasped and took a step backward, dropping the axe.

His angry howl filled the woods, followed by a barrage of filthy words. She turned and raced into the trees, his heavy footsteps coming behind her. On she ran, darting this way and that, behind trees and large boulders. Finally, when she could hear him no more, she sank down behind the wide trunk of a large maple tree, fighting back the uncontrollable sobs lurching in her throat.

Her heart pounded, as twigs snapped and leaves crunched beneath his heavy footsteps. He was almost upon her. Flee or fight? She was no match against his fury, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight, either.

He circled the tree, a wicked grin plastered on his evil face. He pressed his fingers into his bloody shoulder, growled, and then snatched her off the ground like a lion would its prey. Her arms and leg flayed about, as he wrapped his fingers around her throat.

Thirty-Four

Deadly

Merrick released his grip, and Sally’s listless body fell to the ground. Blood seeped through his shirt and trickled down his arm. He pressed his fingers against the wound, and then grabbing her by the legs, he pulled her deeper into the woods. He tied her body to a tree and then spat on her. His lip curled. “I’ll deal with you later.” He swung his foot back and kicked her in the gut and then went back to the path.

A scurry of hurried footsteps farther down the path alerted John that someone was coming. He slipped behind the trunk of a large